Post by The Smith on Mar 28, 2008 22:18:26 GMT -5
Robb grinned at his new young squire, Tomas Bulwer. "Wish me luck against your lord father. Though I don't think I'll need it," he said, laughing. Tomas only nodded and continued to prepare Robb's armor for the training bout. When they arrived in the yard, Ser Oliver was waiting on them and a fair amount of spectators had gathered. Ser Oliver made some witty comment and then waited, electing to let Robb take the first blow of the match.
Robb nodded to convey that he was about to begin, and struck the knight's shield that displayed the device of House Bulwer. The pair each struggled for an advantage, swinging their blunted swords in futile attempts to bruise the other into submission. After several furious engagements, Robb finally managed to swing a hard right-handed downward cut onto Ser Oliver's sword arm. That had to hurt, Robb thought. That would have been enough to put me out of a training bout, but this man won't bow out that easily. Not with his son watching. Robb was right. Ser Oliver, grunting a little at the pain in his arm, did nothing to signal the bout was at end, but instead stepped back and waited for the next attack. Smiling as always, Robb obliged. He knew that the knight's arm must be hurting sorely, so he went on a pressing attack, forcing his opponent to parry his blows. Finally, one of Ser Oliver's parries came a second to late and his sword hits him on the shoulder, and then in the chest, and then again in the thigh before Oliver stumbled and yielded. Robb exhaled, tired but happy. He sauntered over to where the man were watching to talk about his recent victory.
Tomas Bulwer ran over to his father to help him up, but Oliver waved him away. "You shouldn't be helping me Tomas, you should be over there with Lord Tarly," he said, groaning.
"But father..."
"But nothing. You are his squire, and that is the way things are to be from now on. Go," he said, climbing to his feet gradually.
Tomas sloped off back to Lord Tarly.
Robb watched the exchange carefully, and felt a sting of regret at having won against Ser Oliver. However, he would soon chide himself for having such an easy sympathy, for the knight arose, and, as bruised as tired as he was, challenged Robb to another bout. Robb smiled and accepted. This one will be easier, he thought. I've already beat him once, and those bruises have to sting something awful.
Robb had never been more wrong. Ser Oliver came out fighting like a wild animal, faster, stronger, and more efficient than in the first fight. It had been all Robb could do to keep the man from battering him to the ground on several occasions, but still Robb had suffered direct hits from the blunted sword on both of his legs and his sword arm. Exhausted and frustrated at what he thought would be a certain victory, he suddenly charged in an effort to regain his advantage, but Ser Oliver anticipated the move and stepped aside, swinging his sword harshly down across Robb's back. Robb felt the sweat sting in his eyes as he landed face down in the dirt. He cursed loudly before rising and glanced around his squire.
This time Tomas had went to Robb first, and asked him if he was hurt, trying to sound concerned, but Robb could make out the hint of his happiness and pride in the boy's voice. Robb smiled. I like this boy. May the Seven allow him to know his father for a longer time than I knew my own. Robb tried to shake his mind from the sad thoughts of his father and was able to when Ser Oliver came over to jest about the bouts. The two retreated to the castle, to wash off the grime and sweat and agreed to sup together in the great hall that night.
-------------------------------------------------
A few days later Robb returned to the training yard, this time to face a much more famous foe. He was both excited and nervous when he nodded across to the man he was about to take on: Ser Benfry Smith, Lord Regent of the Seven Kingdoms and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Robb hoped he would be able to at least hold his own for a few minutes.
Any thoughts Robb may have had that the recent wound, imprisonement, or long journey that Ser Benfry Smith had been subject to would "level the playing field" so to speak, quickly vanished when the bout began. Smith's sword and shield were everywhere, and it was all Robb could do not to be thrown to the ground. Robb made a good move by ducking one of Smith's furious blows and landed a glancing strike to the man's thigh, but as Robb was rising back up, Smith's sword swung through and landed a direct hit on Robb's helm, sending him to the ground for the second time in the week.
Robb arose with a rueful grin, tolerating the friendly japes from the many spectators with good humor. The Lord Regent himself came over and instructed Robb on some of his moves, and admitting that Robb had much promise to be an excellent swordsman. Smith, who had been very busy while his time at Horn Hill, promised to train with Robb again while at Horn Hill if he found time for it.
That night, Robb fetched Ser Oliver, now one of his better friends among the host at Horn Hill, and the two spent many hours speaking and learning from Aemon Webber, the legendary general, about battle command and tactics. Robb had also brought Tomas along. Webber recounted the countless conflicts he had been involved in as if they had happened only the day before, enthralling the grown men and boy alike with the stories. Robb finally took his leave that night, thinking of his father as he lay asleep, vowing he would do him proud in his next few years.
Results:
Robb Tarly improves swordsmanship to master.
Robb Tarly improves battle command/tactics to expert.
Ser Oliver improves swordsmanship to master.
Ser Oliver improves battle strategy to noteworthy.
Robb nodded to convey that he was about to begin, and struck the knight's shield that displayed the device of House Bulwer. The pair each struggled for an advantage, swinging their blunted swords in futile attempts to bruise the other into submission. After several furious engagements, Robb finally managed to swing a hard right-handed downward cut onto Ser Oliver's sword arm. That had to hurt, Robb thought. That would have been enough to put me out of a training bout, but this man won't bow out that easily. Not with his son watching. Robb was right. Ser Oliver, grunting a little at the pain in his arm, did nothing to signal the bout was at end, but instead stepped back and waited for the next attack. Smiling as always, Robb obliged. He knew that the knight's arm must be hurting sorely, so he went on a pressing attack, forcing his opponent to parry his blows. Finally, one of Ser Oliver's parries came a second to late and his sword hits him on the shoulder, and then in the chest, and then again in the thigh before Oliver stumbled and yielded. Robb exhaled, tired but happy. He sauntered over to where the man were watching to talk about his recent victory.
Tomas Bulwer ran over to his father to help him up, but Oliver waved him away. "You shouldn't be helping me Tomas, you should be over there with Lord Tarly," he said, groaning.
"But father..."
"But nothing. You are his squire, and that is the way things are to be from now on. Go," he said, climbing to his feet gradually.
Tomas sloped off back to Lord Tarly.
Robb watched the exchange carefully, and felt a sting of regret at having won against Ser Oliver. However, he would soon chide himself for having such an easy sympathy, for the knight arose, and, as bruised as tired as he was, challenged Robb to another bout. Robb smiled and accepted. This one will be easier, he thought. I've already beat him once, and those bruises have to sting something awful.
Robb had never been more wrong. Ser Oliver came out fighting like a wild animal, faster, stronger, and more efficient than in the first fight. It had been all Robb could do to keep the man from battering him to the ground on several occasions, but still Robb had suffered direct hits from the blunted sword on both of his legs and his sword arm. Exhausted and frustrated at what he thought would be a certain victory, he suddenly charged in an effort to regain his advantage, but Ser Oliver anticipated the move and stepped aside, swinging his sword harshly down across Robb's back. Robb felt the sweat sting in his eyes as he landed face down in the dirt. He cursed loudly before rising and glanced around his squire.
This time Tomas had went to Robb first, and asked him if he was hurt, trying to sound concerned, but Robb could make out the hint of his happiness and pride in the boy's voice. Robb smiled. I like this boy. May the Seven allow him to know his father for a longer time than I knew my own. Robb tried to shake his mind from the sad thoughts of his father and was able to when Ser Oliver came over to jest about the bouts. The two retreated to the castle, to wash off the grime and sweat and agreed to sup together in the great hall that night.
-------------------------------------------------
A few days later Robb returned to the training yard, this time to face a much more famous foe. He was both excited and nervous when he nodded across to the man he was about to take on: Ser Benfry Smith, Lord Regent of the Seven Kingdoms and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Robb hoped he would be able to at least hold his own for a few minutes.
Any thoughts Robb may have had that the recent wound, imprisonement, or long journey that Ser Benfry Smith had been subject to would "level the playing field" so to speak, quickly vanished when the bout began. Smith's sword and shield were everywhere, and it was all Robb could do not to be thrown to the ground. Robb made a good move by ducking one of Smith's furious blows and landed a glancing strike to the man's thigh, but as Robb was rising back up, Smith's sword swung through and landed a direct hit on Robb's helm, sending him to the ground for the second time in the week.
Robb arose with a rueful grin, tolerating the friendly japes from the many spectators with good humor. The Lord Regent himself came over and instructed Robb on some of his moves, and admitting that Robb had much promise to be an excellent swordsman. Smith, who had been very busy while his time at Horn Hill, promised to train with Robb again while at Horn Hill if he found time for it.
That night, Robb fetched Ser Oliver, now one of his better friends among the host at Horn Hill, and the two spent many hours speaking and learning from Aemon Webber, the legendary general, about battle command and tactics. Robb had also brought Tomas along. Webber recounted the countless conflicts he had been involved in as if they had happened only the day before, enthralling the grown men and boy alike with the stories. Robb finally took his leave that night, thinking of his father as he lay asleep, vowing he would do him proud in his next few years.
Results:
Robb Tarly improves swordsmanship to master.
Robb Tarly improves battle command/tactics to expert.
Ser Oliver improves swordsmanship to master.
Ser Oliver improves battle strategy to noteworthy.